Easy Silence
by Megara79
Summary: Back on Earth, in the peace and quiet of Chakotay's quarters, Kathryn hides away after a grueling day of being debriefed.


**Title: Easy Silence**

 **Author: Megara79**

 **Series: Star Trek: Voyager**

 **Rating: K**

 **Summary: Back on Earth, in the peace and quiet of Chakotay's quarters, Kathryn hides away after a grueling day of being debriefed.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing**

 **Thanks to: Missyhissy, who's once again taken the time to beta, despite the fact that she has her own awesome fic 'The Only Constant', to keep her busy. Go read it once you've finished this one!**

* * *

He's just come out of the shower when the door chimes. He already knows who it is, but it's later than usual, and he suspects that means she's had a tough day. Ruffling his damp hair, he pulls a worn t-shirt over his head before activating the door sensors.

She smiles at him, but the gesture can't hide her exhaustion, and a rush of sympathy floods his system. He extends his hand, and she takes it willingly, following him into the room.

As temporary quarters go, his aren't bad. The apartment is spacious, with an open floor plan. Large windows offer up a stunning view of San Francisco Bay, and although the furniture is too modern for his tastes, it still has a homey feel about it.

He nods towards the couch and lets go of Kathryn's hand, heading into the kitchen to pour her a glass of red wine. The kitchen is his favourite part of the apartment. They've only been back three months, but in that time, Chakotay has rediscovered his love of cooking, and his cold unit and cupboards are stocked with fresh produce and a plethora of spices. A vegetable stew is simmering on the stove and he has garlic bread waiting in the oven. He likes his cooking the old fashioned way.

From the couch Kathryn groans. She's kicked off her shoes, and her green cardigan pools on the floor. Chakotay is glad she decided to change before coming to his. Leaving Starfleet outside allows them both to truly unwind and removes a barrier that, with the exception of New Earth, has always been between them. It's an occurrence that's become more and more common, and it speaks volumes of how far they've come.

Chakotay makes a quick stop to open one of the windows, before joining her. She accepts the wine and draws her legs up under her, smiling at him as he sits down.

"Dinner's ready in ten," he says and gestures towards her legs. The look of utter gratitude that shines from her makes him chuckle, and he pulls her feet onto his lap while his own stretch out on the coffee table. He gently starts kneading the instep of her left foot, and Kathryn makes a noise of appreciation at the back of her throat. She sinks further into the couch, closing her eyes and Chakotay chuckles again. A faint smile appears on her lips at the sound, and Chakotay relaxes too, revelling in the easy silence that envelops them.

He always knew coming home would bring with it certain challenges, and the debriefings have been nothing short of gruelling. He can concede to their necessity, but it's a daunting task having to re-examine the past seven years in such meticulous detail, and although the review board have shown a great understanding in regards to _Voyager's_ tendency to circumvent protocol, there are things he wishes they'd been allowed to leave in the past, and experiences he'd rather not have to live through again.

He can only imagine what Kathryn must feel. If the debriefings have been hard on him, they've been excruciating for her. Long hours and relentless inquests into every command decision she's ever made may not be the equivalent to a red alert, but it's a draining process, and she, more than anyone, deserves to rest.

He looks at her as she takes another sip of her wine, and he moves on to her other foot.

It's been seven weeks since she first showed up on his doorstep, her demeanour flustered and unsure when she asked him if she could hide out with him, instead of going back to her own quarters. _'I can't relax there,'_ she'd told him sheepishly, fiddling with the part of her jacket where her communicator usually went. _'My comm badge is like a damn homing beacon, so I left it behind...'_ She'd trailed off, a guilty look in her eyes.

He'd invited her in. Of course he had. She was still his best friend no matter how strained their connection had become, and after being debriefed for 14 hours straight, surely she deserved her time off. Maybe it was his turn to try and provide a little peace for her, like she so effortlessly continued to do for him, even in their moments of opposition?

It hadn't gone quite to plan.

They'd shared an awkward meal together, stiff and proper, both in uniform, and when she'd left an hour later, he'd thought that was it. Too much had happened between them for either of them to feel completely at ease, and the sad conclusion was that some bridges just weren't meant to be mended.

His reverie halts when she moves to place her wine on the table and pick up the book she left behind the night before. She settles back down and starts to read, and Chakotay can't quite put into words how glad he is that he was wrong. She'd come back a few nights later, and every visit since that awkward meal has helped repair the rift in their friendship. It's been seven weeks of wiping the slate clean and deciding that they want to stay in each other's lives, no matter what. Things are finally back to the way they were at the start, except for one very noticeable difference.

She's no longer his captain.

He pats her leg, and she lowers the book, peering at him from over the rim. "Hungry?" he asks.

"Famished."

He smiles at that. In comparison to _Voyager_ , she's always hungry now. It's like her body has remembered that coffee isn't its own food group, so it's making up for lost meals.

His comm badge chirps as he makes his way back to the kitchen. "Chakotay here," he says, tapping the device. He isn't surprised when the person on the other end is an aide to Admiral Such-and-Such, wanting Captain Janeway's signature on a few debriefing transcripts. He tells the assistant to transfer them to his console, ends the transmission, and sees Kathryn stretch before getting off the couch and walking to his workstation. She sends him an apologetic smile. He waves her off.

They've had this conversation before.

Kathryn has kept on leaving her comm badge in her quarters, just like she did the first night she came to see him. It was inevitable that the odd aide would come to learn where she is when she goes rogue, but the interruptions are far less than what she's normally saddled with, since Chakotay is the one they have to contact. That doesn't mean she doesn't feel a twinge of guilt every time he screens a call for her, even though Chakotay has told her time and time again that he doesn't mind. He may no longer be her first officer, but he still wants to make her burdens lighter, and this is the least he can do, staving off her responsibilities for a few hours, so she can rest.

In turn, she provides him with a sense of belonging.

And the feeling that his home is with her.

It's a treacherous thought that has lurked under the surface in spite of his relationship with Seven of Nine. He's truly enjoyed Seven's company, but with each evening visit from Kathryn, innocent as they may be, he's found himself questioning his choices and wondering if the path that looked so clear on _Voyager,_ was the wrong one.

* * *

She looks up after thumbing her signature on the last transcript from the day's debriefing. Chakotay is carrying their dinner back to the couch. It smells heavenly and her stomach growls in anticipation. The sound makes his dimples flash, but he doesn't look at her, his concentration firmly focused on not spilling anything when he places two bowls of stew and a basket of bread onto the table.

"Dinner is served," he says, glancing over at her.

Kathryn turns off the console and joins him. Her stomach growls again, and Chakotay snorts. "I didn't have time for lunch," she explains, and regrets it immediately. Her throat is sore and she winces, hoping he doesn't notice.

No such luck.

"Can you stop being so damn stubborn and just have the Doctor administer an analgesic?"

Kathryn swallows a mouthful of stew, wincing again, before she answers him. "It's just a touch of laryngitis."

"You sound like you've swallowed a cheese grater."

She levels a pointed look at him, eyebrows raised as she speaks. "So stop making me talk then."

He tries to suppress a smile as they square off against each other. Her own smile tugs at her, their squabbling endearing and commonplace nowadays.

"Fine, have it your way," Chakotay huffs, but just as she thinks she's won, he adds. "But don't think for a minute I won't resort to blackmail if need be." He turns back to his meal, an air of superiority tingeing his words.

Kathryn gapes at him. "You are not calling my mother over this."

Chakotay shrugs a shoulder, and says between mouthfuls, "Maybe I will. Maybe I wont."

Kathryn starts to protest, but he interrupts her before she can say anything else. "Shhhh, Kathryn. All this talk isn't good for your voice. Remember?" The full force of those formidable dimples hit her, and she chucks a piece of bread at him, unable to keep herself from grinning back. Chakotay manages to catch the bread mid air and pops it into his mouth, looking smug.

Kathryn shakes her head at him, the levity between them reminding her of how things were on New Earth. Her grin remains as she turns back to her stew, and the two of them finish their meal without further interruptions.

She eats too much. She knew she would. She's been thinking about this meal all day, and with lunch having disappeared in a tsunami of people, comm calls and log reviews, her gluttony was inevitable. She whimpers as she stretches.

"You're welcome," Chakotay chuckles, and Kathryn whimpers again.

She forces herself to stand. If she doesn't, she's going to fall asleep. Besides, he made dinner, it's only fair that she clears the plates. She whacks Chakotay's hand away when he tries to help and he lifts both hands in surrender. Heading over to the recycler, she absent-mindedly ponders whether or not to make herself a cup of coffee. In the end she decides against it. Compared the Delta Quadrant, she actually spends her nights on Earth sleeping, and has found that she no longer craves coffee the way she used to when every other night was interrupted by the klaxons.

Instead she makes tea for Chakotay and brings it back to him. He's picked up the book she's been reading and is flipping through it. _'So that's the reason there was another dog ear on one of the pages,'_ she thinks. He's been reading the book when she's not there. The thought warms her, and she waves him away when he wants to return the book to her.

He thanks her for the tea and Kathryn smiles.

She's done that a lot lately, she thinks, as she settles back down.

The curtains dance in the summer wind, the faint scent of the sea tickling the air around them. She inhales deeply, trying to think when she last felt this peaceful. It's such a stark contrast to the hectic exertion that weighs on her during the day, and she knows her respite comes from the man who sits next to her.

She glances at him, his rapt attention glued to the pages of her book. The peaceful quiet his presence offers, grounds her. He continues to make her burdens lighter, like he's done since the first day she met him. Her one constant. It scares her how close they came to throwing their friendship away. Their return to the Alpha Quadrant has remedied that and made their bond stronger than ever, but it has also opened her eyes and forced her to acknowledge something she has fought hard to forget.

She's in love with him.

* * *

The book is captivating.

A fantasy story, cloaked in reality, about a young boy who's lost at sea, and the tiger that stays on the boat with him. It's not a book he'd expect to find on Kathryn's reading list, her tastes more serious and leaning towards poetry, and yet, it's clear that she loves this story. She's highlighted her favourite passages, a habit of hers he's well used too, and he wonders if the reason she loves this book so much is because, like the boy, she too has been lost.

He smiles wistfully at that and wonders who the tiger in Kathryn's story is.

Turning his head, he finds her staring at him, her impossibly blue eyes filled with an emotion he can't quite define. Kathryn's mind is a vast and unbridled landscape, but he's learnt how to navigate it after so many years together and he can usually travel alongside her without a map. He thought he'd lost his way for a while, but that has changed, and he can tell there's something pressing she wants to say. A slight flush tinges her cheeks and paints her chest, and Chakotay's heart beats against his ribcage with a little more force than before.

She draws her breath, as if she wants to say something, but the words die off and expel in a huff of frustration instead.

"You want to try that again?" The teasing lilt to his tone of voice covers the slight apprehension he feels at the sudden change in her mood. He marks his place in the book before putting it on the table to give her his undivided attention.

She points apologetically at her sore throat, in a half-hearted attempt to avoid the question, but relents just as quickly. "Fine," she says, before he can call her on it. She sighs deeply, a small shudder running through her. Turning around to face him full on, she leans back onto her heels and rests her hands in her lap. A couple of seconds pass, and her eyes remain glued to his. She unconsciously licks her bottom lip, and it dawns on him.

She's nervous.

He's almost laughs at that, relieved that it's not anything too serious. If it was, she would have told him straight out. Nervousness is not an emotion he associates with her, and he finds it surprisingly charming.

He stretches his leg and nudges her knee with his foot. "Out with it."

Her answering question knocks the wind out of him, and he has to reconsider his earlier line of thinking. This is more serious than anything she's ever asked him.

"How's Seven?"

* * *

She's always imagined that confronting the feelings she has for Chakotay would be an undertaking of immeasurable stress and anxiety, but as she patiently waits for his answer to her partially veiled and impromptu question, all she feels is an innate sense of calm. It's as if her heart has been in constant discord since the moment she met him only to settle in blessed relief, when she finally accepts and acknowledges her love for him.

How all of this has come about, tonight of all nights, suddenly and without fanfare, she will never know, but her mind works in mysterious ways. Chakotay has already been relieved of duty, and soon she will too. Without the restraints of command between them there's nothing to hold her back. It's a curious feeling, and ultimately freeing. Whatever happens next, whether his future is with Seven, with her or someone else entirely, she'll be okay.

They'll be okay.

And she wants him to know that.

She thinks of their time in the Delta Quadrant and feels a fleeting sense of sadness over the years Kathryn has lost to Captain Janeway, but she realises the thought is time wasted. She captained _Voyager_ to the very best of her ability, and she knows, without a shadow of doubt, that out there, her need to keep herself sequestered from the rest of the crew, from him, was paramount in order for her to fully concentrate on getting them all home. She has a lifetime of possibilities in front of her and the thought is so exciting and foreign to her that her entire face lights up in anticipation.

"It's okay," she tells him, her voice hoarse, but her smile warm and genuine. "Whatever happens... Seven?" She shrugs. "You and I will be okay."

Chakotay ducks his head, but she can see his smile, and her heart skips a beat. When he finally looks at her, his grin is unbridled, and the truth dawns on her.

Seven and Chakotay's relationship has ended.

For a split second she wants to offer her sympathies, but the words disappear in the laugh that escapes her. Chakotay's smile grow even wider, and when he pulls her towards him, one thing becomes abundantly clear.

This is what's meant to be, and the two of them belong with each other.

* * *

 **The end.**


End file.
